


Drabbles

by plantyourtreeswithme_archive (plantyourtreeswithme)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Consort Bilbo Baggins, M/M, Married Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantyourtreeswithme/pseuds/plantyourtreeswithme_archive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets originally posted on <a href="http://plantyourtreeswithme.tumblr.com">my tumblr</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thorintoxication (hehehe see what I did there)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drunk Bilbo rags on Thorin in Laketown, causing Thorin to become drunk himself.
> 
> (Yes. They go to fight a dragon with hangovers.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published [here](http://plantyourtreeswithme.tumblr.com/post/122716146907/thorintoxication-hehehe-see-what-i-did-there) on June 28th, 2015.

"Please lie down."

"No."

"Bilbo -"

"I haven't had this much fun in  _years_ , Thorin."

Thorin sighed exasperatedly, took a swig from his own mug, and watched the hobbit as he continued on his tirade, the slurred words not registering in his ears.

"...and another thing, it's my birthday, so  _let me be drunk, Thorin Oakenshield, don't you think I've deserved it_?"

Thorin thought that Bilbo deserved a lot of things, actually, but he was being completely unreasonable. After all, they were going to fight a dragon tomorrow, and if Bilbo wasn't sober, the quest might not succeed...

And so, he resolved to watch the hobbit make a fool of himself; watch him dance tipsily with Bofur, watch him blatantly flirt with Bard (only increasing Thorin's dislike of the bowman), and watch him stumble back to Thorin at last.

"You're going to be sorry tomorrow," Thorin said, eyeing Bilbo's third beer. He himself had only had two - which was hardly enough to make a dwarf even feel hazy - but hobbits could probably only handle one. And the Laketown ale was pretty strong for beer that had been brewed by big folk.

"You're probably right," said Bilbo, setting his bottle down with a clunk and sitting on the bench in front of him. His hair was mussed and seemed curlier than usual, probably from the lake water. Thorin still couldn't believe that Bilbo had managed to get them out of the Mirkwood prison all by himself. He had certainly underestimated the hobbit, for what felt like the umpteenth time.

From some far-off corner, Thorin heard dwarven voices singing an old drinking song about the man in the moon. Some of the dwarves lilted back into Khuzdul as they sang, stuttering and guffawing and drinking more beer.

"It's good, isn't it?"

He turned and looked at Bilbo, who was staring right back with a piercing expression. Thorin had the impression that Bilbo wasn't really the silly kind of drunk; he was shrewd and honest, his mind only slightly clouded.

"Wh-what's good?" he asked, transfixed by the hobbit's gaze.

"The beer." Bilbo stared dismally at the nearly-empty bottle, threw his head back, and drained it. Thorin found himself mesmerized by the way Bilbo's curly locks looked red in the firelight.

"I suppose, for -"

"You shouldn't have led me on for so long, you know," he suddenly said, and Thorin nearly choked.

"What in Mahal's name do you mean?" he sputtered.

"You  _know_ what I mean." Bilbo paused for a moment, tapping his fingers on the table, then continued. "If you don't like me, why didn't you just say so?"

He could feel the blood rising to his cheeks. "B-Bilbo, I never -"

"Oh, come  _on_ , Thorin, it's so obvious," he replied, cutting him off again. "I know you doubted me at the beginning of the quest, but you said at the Carrock that you'd changed your mind. So why did you change it again?"

"I never... Bilbo, you just single-handedly led a prison escape! You saved us from the elves. You're the reason we're still on this godforsaken quest -"

"Shut up," he snapped, "shut  _up_ , you hate me and I know you do, I can tell you don't return my feelings every time you look at me..."

Bilbo's words rang in Thorin's ears.  _I can tell you don't return my feelings..._

The hobbit had never been so wrong.

"...and I'm going to bed, I've had enough of you for one night." Bilbo stood up as suddenly as he had sat down and marched away, presumably to find somewhere to sleep.

Thorin resolved to immediately get drunk as quickly as possible.

He woke up with a massive headache and the feeling that he had forgotten something important, but swept the thought aside. He was about to attempt to fight a dragon with a hangover, and there was no way they were winning unless he found a glass of water and perhaps something to shade his eyes.


	2. Drabble Prompt - 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _25\. "I can't believe you talked me into this."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> available at [my tumblr](http://plantyourtreeswithme.tumblr.com) :) [send me more prompts](http://plantyourtreeswithme.tumblr.com/post/128769293377/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)!! ask box is [here](http://plantyourtreeswithme.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> I've also used an html feature that translates Khuzdul if you scroll your mouse over it. It's really cool and available [here](http://plantyourtreeswithme.tumblr.com/post/125435570772/hi-first-of-all-i-want-to-say-that-your-writing) if you want to use it. Translations are also available at the end of each chapter if you're on mobile.

_Tap, tap._

Thorin drummed his fingers against the smooth, polished surface of his writing desk, his grime-covered fingertips leaving imperceptible stains on the age-old mahogany. He’d been inspecting the mines two days ago, and he was still finding powder and dust caked on his skin, even after having bathed twice.

The second time, he’d fallen asleep in the bathtub. Bilbo had found him after about an hour, his skin pruned and a horrendous blush on his face, even though they were already married. It was just so  _embarrassing_  to be caught napping in the bath - and he would never dream to admit that he was that tired.

They’d had a nice long chat, king and consort - or rather, husband and husband, for Thorin’s royal title was always left on their bedside table in the form of his crown. Bilbo was fond of saying that they weren’t royals in the bedroom, just a hobbit and a dwarf  ~~and two perfectly functional bodies~~.

Two days later, and Thorin hadn’t even bothered to put on his golden, oak-leaved crown (the one that matched Bilbo’s). He’d had his personal scribe, Brûkmurim, deliver a message to Balin that contained a hurried excuse for him to take a personal day. The old  _khuzd_  hadn’t even bothered to write back, probably already busy catching up on the tasks Thorin hadn’t bothered to start.

He’d gone back to sleep afterwards, his fatigue overtaking him, and had woken up a few hours later, the space in the bed beside him empty. Thorin had wondered where his husband was, but thought it no matter - Bilbo was most likely preparing whatever he had in store for him.

“It’s a surprise,” the hobbit had said when Thorin had questioned him about it. “And no, I shan’t tell you, that’ll spoil it.”

“I  _hate_  surprises,” Thorin had grumbled, but he hadn’t pressed the matter.

After changing into a simple, dark green tunic with silver embroidery and breeches, he went to sit at his writing desk, intending on writing a letter to Bard. Bilbo had forced him to cancel the meeting and take the day off instead, which had irked him - he hadn’t talked to the man for months, both of them being, well,  _kings_. There was much to be discussed, but, as Bilbo had said, that would have to wait.

He found himself tapping out words in Iglishmêk onto the desk, his quill completely abandoned on the tabletop next to his hand. The gestures that mostly comprised of circular motions with the index fingers came naturally to him; he could still remember the day his mother had first taught him the basics of the dwarven sign language, her tone patient and gentle as he struggled through the movements.

 _I love you,_  he tapped.  _I care for you. You are my treasure of all treasures, the holder of my heart, my jewel of jewels -_

The door opened, and there were no footsteps, signifying that Bilbo had finally arrived. He padded silently across the room - barefoot, as always - and laid a small hand on his own. Fingers that were dwarfed by Thorin’s - pun most definitely intended - closed around his hand and raised it. Bilbo kissed the knuckles gently with a soft press of his mouth against them, and Thorin couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello,  _ghivashel_ ,” he greeted, fondling one of Bilbo’s curls as the grip on his hand loosened. “ **I can’t believe you talked me into this.**  What exactly do you have in store for us today?”

“A picnic,” Bilbo grinned, “I’ve already got the food set out and everything, Bombur was  _so_  helpful when I asked him to make us something special -”

“It’s winter,  _amrâl_ , it’s too cold for a picnic.”

“Not here, you dolt, in the library. I’ve had Balin declare it off-limits for today, so we’ll have the whole place for ourselves,” his husband said, reaching for his hand again. “Come on, the food’s still hot, and if we eat fast, we can do more than just have lunch.”

All Thorin could think as he blushed fiercely and followed Bilbo was that Ori would be terribly annoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Iglishmêk** \- the dwarven sign language
> 
>  **Khuzdul Translations (in order of appearance)**  
>  _khuzd_ \- dwarf  
>  _ghivashel_ \- treasure of all treasures  
>  _amrâl_ \- love
> 
> I tap out violin finger patterns at school all the time on the desks, and sometimes I even do piano patterns, too. A really good friend of mine who plays percussion does the same thing, and we sit together in my English class. Today, our rhythm drumming was particularly noticeable, and it inspired Thorin’s Iglishmêk patterns. It’s sort of like Morse code, lol :) hope you like, anon!


End file.
